


Loose Ties

by kingollie



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Alyx is only mentioned but?, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, IDM, anyway enjoy, because what do you mean 'gman doesnt have a soft spot for Gordon', give him rest, gordon is a sad tired boy, i guess, i mean this isnt really meant to be shippy but, if you want to see it that way then sure, who doesnt have a soft spot for gordo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingollie/pseuds/kingollie
Summary: Set seven years after the events of “Epistle 3”. The G-man returns to observe one of his previous puppets after “revolution” upon “revolution” fails to wipe the Combine from the Earth.





	Loose Ties

.Gordon Freeman was not a being that the G-man had any particular interest in after the man had served his purpose. He had been intriguing to watch, as he pressed through the toughest conditions and situations any human had dealt with. As he had torn through the flesh of great beasts and saved a multitude of lives. And again, as he had rose once more years later to greatness. But after that, the man was no longer a priority - that position now fell upon Miss Vance’s shoulders. The last the G-man had seen of him had been on the Borealis, as the interdimensional boat - turned bomb had been about to explode.

He could still recall the look of utter betrayal and fury etched into Freeman’s bloodied face. It was the angriest he believed he'd ever seen a human being - Freeman’s brows had been knit together, forehead wrinkled and eyes practically burning with vicious, relentless wrath. Teeth gritted - more animal than man. Furious. But then he had turned and followed after Miss Vance. Leaving his previous “employee” behind for dead. 

Of course, he had the suspicion that Freeman wouldn't just die, he never did. The idea that would be the end of his legacy was preposterous to the alien-man. Still, he heard nothing from his higher-ups about earth; the planet had fallen back into an insignificant second thought. Another rock in space that had become a victim to the Combine and its far-reaching forces.

The name Gordon Freeman hadn't been mentioned in many (Earth) years. It didn't bother G-man, that was until Alyx had squinted at him one day, tilted her head and asked. “Where's Gordon?” He had merely shrugged and left her be, intending to forgot all about the event. But, soon curiosity got the better of him, guiding him back to Earth and the conflict being waged there. 

When he stepped out onto the cracked, concrete all he could see was the mangled remains of buildings - both human and Combine alike, stretching away for miles, the torn apart remains of a city. Smoke billowing up into the air - thick and heavy, with no obvious source - the stench of flames and coppery blood was overpowering. Through the fog the G-man could see the broken frames of both people and aliens, pulling themselves upright, moving to cling pathetically to one another, speaking in wavering tones and many a language. Vortigaunts slunk towards the clusters of other beings, making weak grumbling noises. Antlions approached their “masters” on wobbling legs, pained guttural sounds escaping their jaws. The place seemed to be drenched deep in a solemn atmosphere.

There had been a battle here. Very, very recently. And though it seemed the rebellion had won, it clearly hadn't been worth whatever they lost. The G-man knew this would barely affect the Combine, and for a moment he queried why they were even trying. He turned about, looking for the man he had come here for. 

The man carefully picked his way down the pile of rubble that he stood upon, glancing calmly about for any sign of -

“-Freeman!” The G-man whipped about in the direction of the voice, perking up at the name, sensing many eyes now staring the same way. On top of a pile of splintered wood and crushed boulders stood a lanky looking woman. She was squinting about the street, looking horrified. “Fuck! Has anyone seen Freeman?!” Murmurs and worried glances were exchanged amongst the little gaggles of creatures. Some looked around them, shaking their heads and whispering. “God. Fuck! Fuck-”

The G-man twisted away, staring out about the area, looking for any indication of the missing man. He could sense him nearby, for certain. He frowned hard, slipping away from the crowd, if they hadn't spotted him here then he was bound to be further away. 

G-man eased his way down another slope, towards a small collection of smoking craters. He weaved behind a dilapidated building, blinking through the smog for the man. He couldn't see any figure standing about or resting on any of the rocks or little outcrops that were left of the buildings. No distant breathing or muttering, or even the slightest sign of life. No Gordon. The alien-man made a soft grunt, prepared to walk away - quit hunting for the ex-employee and return to the more pressing issues involving Miss Vance. As he began to wander in the direction of an untouched doorframe he heard a feeble little squeak from somewhere to his left.

Stopping in his tracks, the man shifted to face in the direction of the noise, craning his neck towards the source. He approached a little crater and glanced over the edge. Curled in on himself, battered and barely breathing was a tattered Gordon Freeman.

The man was no longer wearing any type of protection, merely sporting a torn army-styled jacket and khaki trousers. His hair was clotted with blood and tied loosely into a rattail. Blood was smothered over his body, a deep gash had practically ripped open his chest, blood splattering out onto the filthy ground. He was breathing heavily, choking and sputtering out more blood. The man's eyes were screwed shut, his tired features contorted in agony. Suddenly, Freeman’s body went into painful spasms and tremors and he made another few weak sounds, gasping and shuddering. 

Easily, G-man slunk over to his target, head tipped to inspect the pathetic shape on the ground. He made a soft cough and Freeman tried to look in his direction, trembles and shudders increasing.

“My.. my, Mr. Freeman. What.. have you... been up to?” He spoke evenly, his cold, monotone voice echoing across the bleak landscape. “Mm?” He raised his brows. Freeman merely writhed slightly on the floor. G-man came to a halt before the other then lowered himself down onto one knee, eyeing the state of the man. The briefcase was set down warily by his side. Gordon pushed himself up onto trembling elbows, breathing erratic as he attempted to move into a less vulnerable position. He was soon eye-to-eye with the bureaucrat, his shattered glasses slipping down his nose. He wobbled slightly, hardly clinging onto his consciousness.

The man was petrified. His eyes wide and wild, completely on edge, he flinched at every little movement that the G-man made. The alien-man swallowed, calculating what to do. His employers had appreciated Gordon before, he was only doing a favour by helping the man. Right? 

He extended a cold, slim hand to pull away a clot of blood from Freeman’s face, the scientist flinched, looking horrified. Though his face dropped into a confused stare as the G-man calmly removed the clumps from his cheeks. “Quite.. on edge aren't… you Mr.Freeman?” Gordon merely trembled. “Now.. you cannot work… like this. Mm.” He reached to press his palm against the wound on his chest, feeling the warm liquid trickle out into his hand. A nose curl. Humans were so ridiculously volatile.

Freeman let out a pitiful croak and lurched forwards, G-man was about to retreat back, assuming he was about to be attacked by the man but immediately froze when he felt no pain or anything similar. All he felt was the weight of Gordon pressed into his chest. The man's fingers were curled into the fabric of the alien's suit, and his chest was rising and falling in almost painful contractions. Little retching sounds emerged from his mouth. G-man realised after a few moments that Freeman was crying. Making broken sobs and cries of misery as he clung weakly to the other. “Husshhh, Mr. Freeman.” Gordon snuffled, his face tucking into the crook between G-man’s neck and shoulder, clinging to him for comfort. Humans had the desire for that sort of thing, he figured. So he allowed it.

Gently his hand came to rest back against the slash on Freeman’s chest, he held it there - calmly letting the healing process accelerate - feeling the man twist uncomfortably as he did so. After a couple of seconds the lowered his hand away, wriggling in Freeman’s vice grip. The other only held on tighter, still letting out feeble weeping noises. “Well now… Mr. Freeman it seems.. about time for.. us to take.. our leave, mn?” Gordon drew back very slowly, face blotchy and etched with bewilderment. He frowned and dropped his head to one shoulder, as if to say “us?”. 

“Come.. on then. We cannot.. loiter.” G-man finally managed to pluck the -rather boney- fingers from his lapels and drew himself back up to his fall height, snatching up his briefcase. On the ground Freeman looked bemused but wearily wobbled upright beside him. The man's thoughts were oddly fuzzy and clearly he wasn't aiming any in the direction of the alien, or he would've heard them. Usually Freeman was easier to read, perhaps due to his lack of speech, but today it seemed he wasn't.

G-man wove his way back up the rocks towards the undamaged doorframe, Gordon kept close behind, maybe fearing being abandoned again. On occasion another tired sniffle would escape the man but otherwise he was silent as ever. Then:

‘What about the rebels?’ A question -a thought, really- obviously aimed at the G-man.

“What.. do you. Mean?” He glanced back over his shoulder, to note that Freeman had stopped, frowning towards the messy groups of the resistance.

‘They can't run themselves. Or plan attacks.’

“I doubt… those.. attacks have done much ..anyway.” G-man huffed, notably impatient.

‘We've tried enough.. maybe a few mo-’

“-Mr. Freeman.. we both. know that the effort of a few humans and some... vortigaunts is not.. taking down the. Combine.” At this Gordon’s shoulders began to droop, watching as the beings gathered close together into some type of formation as they trudged away. He turned his eyes back to the alien-man, who merely blinked back, unaffected. “We leeeave.. or I.. leave.” He approached the door, almost basking in the pure, white light that filtered out of it.

Slowly he moved forward, feeling fingers dig into his unoccupied arm, Freeman never quite lived up to his name. They stepped out into the grey interior of a tram, with millions of pinpricks of light whizzing past the windows. Gordon detached himself from his employer’s side and simply slumped into one of the chairs, closing his eyes.

G-man exhaled, watching the man slip into status, the pain easing from his features. Now all he'd have to do would be to explain this to the higher-ups.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey and that's they end. I stayed up til 2am writing this so it's not my best work. But I hope it's bearable at least! Xx


End file.
